


your makeup stains my pillowcase

by cherryconke



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancer Outfit, Lingerie, Lipstick, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Service Top Sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryconke/pseuds/cherryconke
Summary: Sylvain can feel the blush spreading hot and fast from his cheeks to his chest. Felix looks down at him curiously, fingers running idly through the sheer, gauzy lace with a lot more interest now.“Put it on.”—Or: Felix finds Sylvain's lingerie.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 211





	your makeup stains my pillowcase

“Sylvain? What’s this?”

Sylvain’s currently busy kissing a constellation of bruises and bites across Felix’s neck, peppering new marks over older, fading ones. The novelty hasn’t worn off yet, not even after the handful of months they’ve been together – each plum mark living proof that Felix is  _ his.  _

And it goes both ways. The mottled mauve collaring his own neck says as much; as does the way Felix hasn’t been able to keep his hands off him this morning, not since Sylvain returned after being fitted for his new dancer costume, showing off the way the dark silk ripples and shimmers in the sunlight with graceful twirls around his bedroom.

(The way Felix pulled him back into bed by the outfit’s silk tassels will probably be forever ingrained in Sylvain’s mind as one of the hottest things he’s ever done, coming in close second to the night Felix first discovered Sylvain’s particular penchant for praise.)

Sylvain would be content to lay here all afternoon, coaxing lazy sighs from Felix’s mouth with his tongue and teeth as they slowly peel off each layer (all that’s left between them now is the silk skirt, hitched up around Sylvain’s thighs, and Felix’s sleeveless shirt, hem riding high above his stomach), but Felix, clearly has other things in mind when he moves out of his orbit to fumble through Sylvain’s nightstand for the bottle of oil they’ve started keeping there.

“What’s what?” Sylvain keeps his lips attached to the pulse point of Felix’s neck, more than happy to stay put on the bed while Felix reaches his arm over to rifle blindly through the drawer.

“This.” Felix sits up and out of reach of Sylvain’s teeth. What he pulls out of the drawer is most definitely  _ not  _ oil. 

“Wha– oh.”

Sylvain looks to the object in question: it’s a sheer black stocking, hemmed with intricate lace at the top. Then, he looks to Felix, watching his expression flash from confusion to anger before bleeding into closed-off pain.  _ Ah. Shit.  _

“Do I want to ask why it’s in your nightstand?” Felix’s tone is careful, like the flat side of his blade, sharp edge honed to a deadly point. Sylvain’s pretty sure that Felix can feel his dick twitching beneath the silk dancer’s skirt against his thigh; he should probably be more embarrassed at how much half-nude, almost-threatening Felix turns him on.

“I know what you’re thinking, but… uh.” Sylvain clears his throat. “It’s mine.”

Sylvain can feel the blush spreading hot and fast from his cheeks to his chest. Felix looks down at him curiously, fingers running idly through the sheer, gauzy lace with a lot more interest now.

“Put it on.” Felix’s smile turns playful. Sylvain, for the life of him, can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“What? Fe, no, we  _ really _ don’t have to–”

“I know we don’t have to.” Felix slips his palm over one of Sylvain’s hands where it’s resting on his slim waist, bringing it up to curl his fingers around the sheer fabric. His voice goes soft and low, throatily sincere. “But I’d like to see you in it.”

Sylvain’s heart stutters an erratic rhythm in his chest. It was something he’d bought a whim in one of the forgettable towns he’d passed through on his way back to the monastery – a carefully wrapped parcel of lacy, delicate things he only ever brings out when he’s alone and feeling particularly self-indulgent. It’s a whole set of black straps and translucent silks, richly dyed: lush slipping through his palms, lace wrapped around curling ribbons that cascade over his waist and down his back, framing the v of his hips and the curved muscle of his thighs. 

He’s never worn it for anyone but himself.

“Really?”

“Yes, Sylvain.” Felix leans in for a kiss, and it’s everything Sylvain needs: warm, reassuring, just this side of bruising. Felix lets him melt into his mouth, fingers coming up to press the crumpled-up stocking against his bare chest. 

“O- okay.” He feels a little woozy, breathless with anticipation. “Now?”

Felix drapes a hand across the front of Sylvain’s skirts, brushing lightly over where his erection tents up the fabric. The fond smile curling across his face is loose and lustful. “If you want.”

Sylvain nods and tips his head back against the pillows with a soft groan. He loves when Felix gets like this in bed, bossy and a little petulant as he calls the shots, making it easy for Sylvain to sink into a blissful, fucked-out headspace.

“Go get ready, then. I’ll wait for you.” Felix hums, swinging one leg over to scoot off his lap and to the side of the bed, sinking back into the pillows. Sylvain watches for a minute as Felix palms himself lazily, eyes flicking over to where he’s hesitating on the edge of the bed. The small smirk that curls slow across Felix’s face stokes the simmering heat pooling heavy in Sylvain’s gut. 

Sylvain pauses on his way to the partitioned-off section of his room that holds his armor and his weapons at his dresser, eyeing the topmost drawer. The rest of the set lies there, tucked away under the mundane comfort of his everyday socks and smalls and leggings.

“There’s– should I put on the whole thing?” 

“Fuck,  _ yes, absolutely.”  _ Felix’s voice, low and raw with desire, goes straight to his cock.

The sounds of Felix’s soft sighs as he settles further into the pillows spur Sylvain on as he changes, slipping out of the long, draped ruffles of his dancer’s skirt. It’s a new enough ritual that he fumbles with the straps, twisting and tightening and flipping things inside-out. The underwear are first, soft black and lined with a ribbon of lace that cuts high across his asscheeks and cups his cock nicely against his stomach. He could probably leave it at that, but one of Felix’s breathy moans floats loudly over the partition and Sylvain pulls the matching garter belt up over his waist in a fit of boldness, smoothing it out over his hips.

And finally, the stockings, one still warm from where Felix had been holding it against his chest, riding high up his thighs as he clips them into the garter. Sylvain takes a deep, shaky breath before fastening the dancer skirt around his middle and slipping the matching armbands back on, thin fabric flowing silk from his elbows and wrists. 

When Sylvain turns to the mirror, it looks decadent in a way that makes his own cock  _ drool  _ and his head spin a little. Still, there’s something… vulnerable about it, something that makes his heart beat faster with nerves.

But then Felix moans, more brokenly this time, and Sylvain reminds himself that it’s Felix on the other side of the divider. It’s Felix, and Felix asked for this, and Felix wouldn’t ask for this unless he wanted it. Oh, and that Felix loves him, regardless of what he’s wearing. 

Sylvain smoothes down his skirt out of habit and steps back into his bedroom.

“Oh,  _ fuck.”  _

Felix has moved to the edge of the bed, tank top discarded in a crumpled pile on the floor at his feet. He’s fisting his half-hard cock lazily with one hand and leaning back on the bed with the other. When he looks up at Sylvain, his pupils dilate to blown-black, nearly eclipsing the thin ring of amber.

“Fuck, you look good. You look  _ so  _ good. Come here.”

His skirts pool dark chiffon around him as Sylvain nudges Felix’s legs apart and kneels between his knees. The garter straps cut into his skin with a pleasant squeeze. 

“Do you like it?” Sylvain murmurs into the skin of one thigh, letting his hands wander up and down Felix’s bare calves.

“Like it?” Felix laughs a little, softly amused, nudging him in closer with his heel. “I love it. Sylvain, you look  _ perfect.” _

The praise hits so good, desire and contentment flooding Sylvain’s limbs with a heady wave of heat and affection. 

“But you forgot something.” Felix pulls out the single tube of lipstick he must’ve found rifling through the rest of the drawer, a shade of berry red tried on once or twice but otherwise forgotten. His eyes drip golden-candlelight love onto where Sylvain looks up at him.

“Can I?”

“Y–yeah–”

Sylvain represses the full-body shiver that slips up his spine, letting his lips fall slack when Felix reaches out to frame his chin in one hand and pull him closer. He shuffles forward on his knees, eyes wide as Felix leans down to swipe the tube of lipstick across his bottom lip, then his upper, dabbing the corners carefully. His hand is steady but gentle where it grips Sylvain’s jaw. 

“There.” The smile Felix flashes at him makes him fucking  _ melt. _ “You look so pretty, Syl.”

Sylvain closes his eyes, sighing out against Felix’s thigh and letting his cheek rest there, watching in idle contentment as Felix slowly strokes himself back to full hardness with one hand and brushes through Sylvain’s hair with the other. He palms his own cock through the silks to Felix’s rhythm, quiet as Felix’s lashes start to flutter low and half-lidded, gaze heavy where it falls upon him. He feels comfortable here, kneeling between Felix’s legs: safe and loved, like he’ll be taken care of. 

And he will be. Felix always does.

“You gonna be a good boy for me? Fuck me good?” 

_ Fuck.  _ So that’s how it’s going to go. Sylvain bites his lip and nods. “Yeah.”

Felix’s fingers curl through his hair, tugging lightly to bare his throat. Sylvain lets his head fall back easily, tracking Felix’s fingers moving up across the side of his head, outlining the shell of his ear before coming down to thumb at the corner of his mouth. Sylvain lets his mouth fall open for him, sucking one finger in, loose and pliant, just how Felix likes it.

“Gonna make a mess of me?” Felix’s voice is a low purr as he brings his other hand around to cup the back of Sylvain’s head. It’s a sweet gesture, tender and careful. Sylvain lets his mouth fall open again, smiling around the pad of Felix’s thumb.

“‘d love to, sweetheart.”

“Go on, then.”

Sylvain takes the invitation readily, leaning in and wrapping a hand around Felix’s cock, nuzzling his way up one leg and down the other. He leaves red smudges all along where he kisses, painting Felix with shimmering smears of makeup. Felix’s hum of contentment rumbles through him as Sylvain lifts his legs to rest a thigh on each shoulder, fingers squeezing before giving into his squirming whimpers and sinking his mouth to the hilt around Felix’s cock.

He vaguely registers Felix’s fingers winding through his hair, Felix’s thighs tensing up around his ears, Felix’s mouth falling open in a gasp that pierces through his heart and straight to his cock as he swallows around him, swirling his tongue in teasing circles. 

“That feels so good, Sylvain. F-fuck–” Sylvain can’t help but smirk as Felix chokes on a moan and tugs him all the way down to the root before pulling him off entirely, drool dripping from the corners of his lips.

_“Saints,_ look at you,” Felix muses. Sylvain looks down at Felix’s cock instead, base ringed with lipstick and spit. “Gorgeous, all dressed up for me.”

Sylvain smiles, pushing into the hand Felix has resting on his cheek. “Only for you.” 

“Yeah,” Felix agrees, shifting and spreading his legs wider, “only for me.” His eyes are dark as he passes something down to Sylvain – the missing bottle of oil. “Now be good and open me up.”

Sylvain groans, taking a hand off of his (almost painfully hard) dick, slicking his fingers up diligently. The look Felix gives him is almost enough to get him to orgasm alone, amber eyes soft and pleased, artfully mussed hair framing a smug smirk and crimson cheeks. Felix’s full-body blush is one of Sylvain’s favorite things in the world, and a bolt of pleasure crackles through his core knowing that  _ he  _ is the cause of it.

It isn’t hard to stretch Felix open – not after he’d already ate him out earlier that morning, bringing him to the edge over and over again with his tongue – but Sylvain takes his time anyway, thrusting slow and stroking carefully inside, fingering him until he feels Felix’s hand untangle from his hair and clutch crinkles into the sheets between his fists, back arching up against the bed. He presses wet, sloppy kisses to the underside of Felix’s cock as his fingers find his prostate and Felix starts to shake apart on his hand. “Yeah, Syl, there you go, right there–”

“Oh,  _ oh,  _ Sylvain,” Felix chants, coming messily over Sylvain’s fist until he’s limp against the bed. There’s lipstick smeared all across his stomach and cock, ringing the bruises he’d sucked onto the inside of his thighs. He looks, to put it plainly, absolutely  _ delicious.  _ Sylvain licks him clean, soothed when Felix starts carding his fingers through his hair.

“Was I good?” Sylvain asks when Felix finally catches his breath, his voice a little rough. He moves up the bed to crawl over him, grinning wide, smearing faint pink smudges across the plane of Felix’s chest. Silk and chiffon flow between them, tangling in their legs. Felix gathers up fistfuls of it in his hands, soft where it slides across his thighs.

“Yeah.” Felix smiles, all teeth and affection, pulling him up and burying his nose into his neck. “Yeah, you did so good for me.”

They pause for a kiss – one of the long, good ones that leaves both of them pressing into each other, Felix desperate to taste himself on Sylvain’s tongue – before Felix pushes him off and uses his strength to flip him around and arrange him across the pillows. Sylvain lets it happen without a fight, melting beneath his touch. 

“Wanna get a better look at you.” Felix straddles his thighs and unties the sash and skirt from around his waist. Chiffon unspools down the curves of his body; Felix’s fingertips run over delicate lace reverently. Sylvain shifts against the bed, exposed and pinned under liquid amber, Felix’s gaze roving hungrily up and down his stocking-clad legs, pausing on the garter straps that squeeze into each thigh.

_ “Fuck.  _ You’re beautiful. Look at you, being so good for me,” Felix murmurs appreciatively, fingertips trailing from the stockings to his cock straining against his stomach. Sylvain moans weakly at the touch, overwhelmed, and reaches a hand out to grab onto Felix’s and lace their fingers together.

“Felix.  _ Felix.” _

“Yeah,  _ sweetheart?” _ Sylvain’s heart skips at least three beats at the pet name, the weight of it on Felix’s tongue a heady thing. Felix’s palm grinds against his cock, and the smirk in his voice is undeniable, syrup-sweet in his ear. “You like that, don’t you?”

Sylvain nods hazily. “Yeah, I do, I do.”

“Goddess, Sylvain, I fucking love you in this. Want you like this all the time.”

A finger plucks at the topmost garter strap, snapping it gently against his thigh. Sylvain groans, gripping his free hand around Felix’s bare hip, thumb smearing through a line of lipstick.

“So pretty for me,” Felix remarks lightly, sliding his hands over the tops of his thighs in perfect symmetry, thumbing at the stockings. “You wanna fuck me?” It’s teasing, sighed through a smirk, and Sylvain swears his stomach nearly drops out of his body at the sight of Felix, perched over him, dragging scarred hands down the line of his stomach.

He nods fervently and squeezes Felix’s hand. “Yeah, I do, let me be good for you, baby, please–”

Felix’s amused laugh washes over him, rough but soothing. His fingers roam, feeling the shape of Sylvain’s body framed by the lingerie, intoxicating lust clouding his eyes. “Okay. Alright. You’ve been so patient already.”

Sylvain scrambles for the oil, pressing it into Felix’s hand. He watches Felix slide down his body, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bruises, biting a ring of marks around the hem of his stockings before moving up to mouth gently his cock through the underwear’s sheer fabric. Felix makes quick work of tugging the lace down and slicking him up, motions jerky and a little hurried now. 

“No touching yet,” Felix reminds him, nudging his thighs closer together, splaying his hand against Sylvain’s stomach while he rises up on his knees. Sylvain nods, throwing his hands above his head and reaching for the headboard. His fingers catch around the wooden beam, settling there comfortably. Felix’s eyes gleam amber approval. “Mm. Love when you behave for me.”

Sylvain knows that the constant communication he craves hasn’t always come naturally to Felix, but  _ fuck  _ has he gotten good at it, pushing his buttons in all the right ways.

“Want me to open you up more?” Sylvain asks as Felix lines himself up, teasing the tip of his cock against his hole, pleasant blunt pressure sparking through him. Felix just smirks even wider and snaps his hips down, taking him all in one fluid motion. Sylvain gasps, letting his head hit the pillows. He’s overwhelmed with tight, silky heat; overwhelmed with the feeling of Felix surrounding him and pressing him into the sheets.  _ “F-fuck, nevermind–” _

Felix just  _ laughs,  _ the very picture of cool, pleased control, lording over him. His fingers trail love across the hem of the garter as he starts rocking his hips down to ride him.

Sylvain’s always loved the sight of Felix bouncing on his cock, but this?  _ This  _ is something else. The black fabric around his waist and legs contrasts perfectly against Felix’s pale, flushed thighs; lipstick stains smeared all the way up his ribs and across the jut of his hip bones to frame where Felix loosely fists his cock, drooling all over his stomach and hand. Dark hair cascades across his face and down the sweaty slope of his neck. Sylvain thinks he looks fucking  _ angelic. _

“Goddess, look at you. You fill me up so good.” Felix leans down, lavishing Sylvain in attention: he bites at each of his nipples, sucking them into raised peaks; he kisses up and down his neck, caressing every inch of sweaty skin; he whispers scratchy praise into his ear, murmurs of  _ look at you, you fit perfectly,  _ and  _ so pretty for me  _ and  _ harder, harder.  _

Sylvain thrusts his cock steadily into Felix’s ass all the while, hands clenched around the headboard, desperate to be good for him.

He can tell when Felix starts to get close again, how his thighs tremble and his breath starts coming short and fast, singing out staccato strings of Sylvain’s name. 

“Shit, shit, Sylvain-” Felix pants down at him, eyes hazy.  _ “Fuck.  _ You’re incredible. ‘m close. Can you–” he’s breathless, working himself up and down on his cock faster now, “–hold on for me, okay?”

Sylvain exercises every ounce of self-control he has left to  _ not  _ wrap his hands around Felix’s hips and pound into him. He whimpers and watches as Felix grinds onto his dick; it only takes a handful of thrusts until he’s crying out, pushed close to the edge. “Fe, Fe, I’m gonna–”

“Yeah? You wanna come inside, fill me up?” Felix’s teasing doesn’t have the typical bite behind it, only breathless need as he falls apart around him, rhythm turning jerky and stuttered. 

“Felix.  _ Fe.  _ Wanna touch you,” Sylvain begs, fingers curling bruises around the wooden beam. 

Felix smiles down at him, tossing his head back imperiously, hand speeding up. “Not– not yet. Be good for me.” 

He always has to take things so far, always has to push Sylvain until he’s begging. Sylvain fucking  _ loves  _ it. 

“Fe,  _ please.” _

He punctuates his point by tilting his hips up until Felix’s knees leave the bed, the weight of him entirely supported by Sylvain’s thighs. It’s painful pleasure, Felix’s hands splayed across his stomach, fingers winding into the garter as he holds on. “Oh,  _ fuck,  _ right there– okay, yeah, yeah, Sylvain, now,  _ now–” _

Sylvain’s hands go everywhere at once, wrapping a fist around Felix’s cock, winding through Felix’s hair, lips fastening themselves to bite around a nipple as Felix buries his face into Sylvain’s sweat-slick locks. Felix comes hard and fast between them, overstimulated into his second orgasm, tipping over the edge easily as his fingers press bruises into Sylvain’s shoulders. His hole clenches around Sylvain, milking his cock for all it’s worth. It only takes a few more thrusts until Sylvain follows him into bliss, coming so hard his vision blurs.

Sylvain doesn’t know how long he’s been floating in a shaky, post-orgasm limbo that leaves his fingers and toes tingling and numb, but when he collapses back on the bed, Felix follows, curling up against his chest. They’re both sticky with sweat and Felix’s cum, sheets clinging to Sylvain’s back as he readjusts them into a more comfortable position.

Sylvain’s content to lay there and let Felix trace his fingers across the damp fabric, slipping a thumb beneath the lace of his stockings. 

“Wow.” 

Felix laughs. It sounds like love and sunlight. There’s lipstick smeared across his nose and his cheek, and his smile curls into a full-on grin when Sylvain leans in to kiss it off him. 

“Yeah.  _ Wow.” _

**Author's Note:**

> blacked out and wrote this in two days bc quarantine is doing weird things to me
> 
> thx levi for looking this over~
> 
> [i'm on twitter](https://twitter.com/cherryconke)


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